


Flash in the Dark

by Coulrophilia



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coulrophilia/pseuds/Coulrophilia
Summary: "Luxanna. I will be a good husband to you. Even if I do not love you, I will treat you properly. It is the Noxian thing to do, and the Noxian thing is to protect what is mine." (Darius tries desperately not to fall in love. Lux tries desperately to make him.)
Relationships: Luxanna "Lux" Crownguard/Darius
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. Lux

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: Sorry to give prerequisite reading, but if you haven't read the very brief "Blood of Noxus" comic, courtesy of Riot Games, please do! It will come up.  
> Thank you, and enjoy!

She couldn't help feeling like the moment she lowered her hood, even long enough to smooth her hair, every single person in the Immortal Bastion would come to arms and put her head on a pike for so much as daring to be in their precious territory. Noxians didn't like Demacians; the feeling was mutual.

Shrinking into herself a bit as a new group of people settled into the table next to hers, Lux felt direly out of place and even more direly in danger. She didn't want to be here, away from her family and her friends and the people who cared about her. But there was no negotiating that she'd had to run away, like a petulant teenager whose mother had just told her she couldn't be with her boyfriend twice her age because it just wouldn't work out.

Her problems were very different from those, though, and she tried to keep her eyes on the bright horizons ahead of her. She had a plan.

Plans for Luxanna Crownguard, she had found, seldom worked out. She made a lot of plans, but found that even the most finely-lain ones resulted in failure. Lux was well acquainted with failure.

Her first major failure had been at the naive age of eleven, just under a decade ago, when she had fallen in love with one of her brother's military colleagues. He was two years her senior, three years younger than Garen himself. He was an ever-wise thirteen-year-old boy named Finn, hailing from the rather impoverished House Moss. Garen had introduced them as an afterthought, mentioning that Finn hadn't been granted enough time off to make it home in time for his own hometown's Snowdown Festival. She had been smitten with him from the get-go, with his soft blond hair and big green eyes. He snorted charmingly when he laughed, and he laughed a lot.

She would never forget how he snorted when he laughed at her the day he left, when she had marched up to him and announced that she had a crush on him and would very much like to write him a letter when he left. There hadn't even been time for her to inform him that she had already named their three future children. He'd laughed and laughed and laughed at her, not even dignifying her well-planned confession with a proper "no."

When she'd gone to her bedroom, crying the hardest she ever had, her mother attempted stiffly to console her by telling her that it wouldn't have worked out—the House Crownguard would never be able to marry that low, anyway, and they would fix her up with someone much better. Lux hadn't wanted to hear it, though, and promptly put it out of her mind.

Her second failure, only a little over a year ago, had been befriending a criminal who would eventually steal a portion of her power—at least temporarily—and use it to set himself free. She had been manipulated then, had fallen prey to someone she thought capable of reform. It was a very public mistake, one she was training out of her thoughts so it didn't haunt her every time she closed her eyes. Right now, the only purpose the memory served her was even the thought of the warm touch of the Illuminators, who had taken her in. Who she had abandoned so selfishly…

Which led to her current predicament and her third failure. She didn't even want to think about it. It made her sick to her stomach.

Or maybe it was the disgusting Noxian ale she was nursing. It was more bitter than she would have liked, but now was the time to blend in, and if she had only to not cringe every time she took a sip, then she would find a way. She only had to be here for a few days, and then she could move on. She had enough gold on her for a few nights' stay at some inn, and for the rest of her trip.

"Trip." That implied she would be returning home, and her stomach rolled again. She didn't know if that was going to be the case, and she didn't want to think too hard about it. Bad thoughts seemed to pervade every minute of every hour, and she knew she couldn't afford a lack of clarity now.

Lux's eyes moved to the little clock on the wall, the ticking inaudible under the din of the tavern where she sat—The Ugly Drake, so it was called. The clock wasn't accurate to the minute, she guessed, but it was enough in the windowless, underground structure to tell her that it was going to be getting dark soon, and she would have to arrange for a bed for the night. She couldn't afford to sleep on the street, especially not in Noxus Prime. Especially not in such a seedy part of town. She was most likely to fly under the radar here, though, rather than in the nicer neighborhoods where the soldiers took quarter.

She left her flagon, mostly empty now, on the bar and ventured up the rickety stairs, bracing her hands on her hood to keep it from flopping backward onto her back. The cloak wasn't anything fancy, and she made sure that nothing about her would announce to the world that she came from money. Money she no longer had, in fact, and would probably never have access to again. She set those intrusive thoughts aside once again. They were not serving her, and so she did not need them.

As she stepped out onto the street, she looked around, hoping one of the nearest buildings would be an inn she had missed on her way into the tavern. She had taken as full a measure of the neighborhood as she was able with her head down on the trek in, but she hadn't spotted somewhere she might be able to stay for the night.

Hesitantly, she took off down the street, continuing in the direction she had been going before. The sun was sinking beneath the horizon faster than she had anticipated, and she didn't have much of a way to defend herself. Her staff was strapped taut against her back, but she didn't dare so much as acknowledge it, lest some thief snag it off her and make their fortune with it. She didn't know how common her type of magic was in Noxian slums, but she thought it best to keep it to herself. She had a hunch that Noxians didn't hold light magic in high regard.

She hadn't taken ten steps when she was nearly clotheslined by an arm extending out in front of her, right at her eye level. She stopped just short of it, blinking at it with surprise before letting her eyes wander over to the owner of said arm.

He was exactly the kind of person she might have expected to find in a seedy Noxian neighborhood: broad-shouldered and bald with a chip between his two front teeth and a look on his face that read something along the lines of "I will kill you for a slice of bread and a high five." Lux swallowed hard, saying nothing, and he glanced down at the small lump in her cloak at her hip, the bag she was carrying her things in.

"I-I don't have much…" Lux finally told him, making her voice as small and afraid as possible in hopes that he would leave her alone. She busied herself trying to figure out how long it would take to get her staff out and, if seen, how much time she would have to escape. There were people busily milling about, closing up shops, and none of them seemed to care that she was in trouble.

"I didn't ask how much you had." _You didn't ask anything_ , Lux wanted to point out, but decided against sassing the man who very well could be the end of the road for her.

If she gave up all her coin now, she was going to be left in a pretty gnarly predicament and nowhere to sleep. If she didn't hand anything over, she would end up in a possibly tighter bind, either having to use magic and oust herself as a mage, or having to run away, and she wasn't sure she was fast enough. In fact, she wasn't sure that he didn't have friends waiting right behind her.

She didn't like her options, but with his patience wearing away with every millisecond she spent deciding what to do, she'd have to figure something out, and quick.

"I'm waiting," snarled the absolute ogre of a man before her, and Lux swallowed hard, deciding now that she was choosing strength, in traditional Noxian fashion. She wasn't going to talk her way out of this one—Noxians didn't seem to be much for talking, and the more she tried to negotiate the more suspicious he would become.

Beneath her cloak, she began to reach for her staff. "I-I just need enough to stay somewhere tonight," she insisted, but his eyebrows lowered angrily as his lip curled into a snarl, exhaling hard and making the piercing on his septum wiggle.

He began to speak then, but an even larger shadow came over them. Lux's arm snapped to her side, worried she'd been caught reaching for a weapon. "The shakedowns on young women are getting old," thundered the interloper in a menacing bass. "Go, Crane."

Crane gave Lux a solid parting glare before lowering his arm and skulking away. With some distance between them, she could see that there were tattoos covering his scalp and neck.

"And keep your nose clean," the newcomer grumbled. Lux looked up at him. He was tall, taller than Garen even, and had long silver hair tied up into a knot at the crown of his head. He watched Crane disappear into the throng of people before turning to address her, narrowing icy blue eyes at her. "You didn't give him anything, did you?"

It took Lux a moment to realize he had asked a question, and then snapped to attention. "No! No, I'm… not from here, so I need to keep my gold on me so I can actually pay for somewhere to stay tonight. Thank you."

"You're not Noxian?" he questioned, looking away from her to make sure Crane wasn't still lurking and waiting for their conversation to be over.

"N-No, I am! I've just never been to Noxus Prime before." Cool. Good save. "My name is Ophelia, but my friends call me Phe." She had been planning to tell people that name since she had gotten on the train from Demacia, but no one so far had asked, save for the bored guard who had asked her name and place of origin at the Noxtoraa outside the city. "I'm just passing through."

"You're only here for a short time and you choose the slums?" He shook his head. "Let's get you out of here. A bit of gold is not the worst thing someone can take from you in these parts."

Lux wasn't sure if she should look meek or confident in order to win him over, so she squared her shoulders neutrally and followed him. "Can I ask your name?"

"Deacon le Roi," he answered, not looking back at her as he walked. People stepped out of his way as he moved, and she wondered if he was important or if it was just his commanding presence that made people avoid him. "I'm the captain of the guard." That answered that.

"Oh!" Lux gasped. She had been rescued by the captain of the guard, of all people, and she was the idiot asking his name. Of course. "I didn't know. I'm sure you have more important things to be doing, so I can make my own way." She didn't want to inconvenience someone so important, first of all, and secondly, she didn't want to get too chummy with higher-ups in Noxus. That left her vulnerable to finding people who might recognize her. Maybe not every street rat in Noxus knew of the Crownguards, but the higher in rank people were, the likelihood of them recognizing her face went up drastically.

"I'd be remiss if I let you stay the night in the slums," he answered diplomatically. The last place she had been expecting to find kindness was in Noxus, she had to admit, but she wasn't going to complain. "I'm taking you to a halfway decent inn in Mortoraa, where urchins won't snatch at your purse. I have to go there to collect tax anyway—so I might as well bring you along."

"You're the one collecting taxes?" she asked, hoping that toeing the line of boldness was the correct choice. She didn't know how to be a Noxian, but she knew how to be rude and brusque if needed.

He quirked an eyebrow at her but did not punish her for speaking. "I have a wide variety of duties for the Immortal Bastion. We lost a number of guards recently, as they were drafted elsewhere. Several were given the task of collecting taxes. So I have stepped in for the time being to fill their role."

Very noble, she wanted to say. If she had been speaking to any Demacian, she would have complimented his willingness to help out. But that didn't feel very Noxian to her, so she kept her mouth shut, nodding with interest instead.

"Where do you come from?" he asked then, and Lux worried then that she wouldn't say the name correctly. The guard at the gate hadn't thought twice of her, but he had been half-awake.

"Basilich," she answered casually, hoping he didn't ask any follow-up questions about the place she had never been. She hadn't had much time to do research before coming here.

"What did you think of the rebellion?" asked Deacon, and Lux had to do everything she could not to wince. What rebellion had taken place?

Lux shook her head, deciding a guess and a vague answer was better than nothing. "Awful shame."

Deacon didn't seem to question her response, and she counted that as a victory. "It's Commander Darius' hometown. I never thought I would see Steward Varn turn against Noxus the way she did, and I'm sure he thought—well, I guess it doesn't matter."

Darius. Lux felt her core temperature drop by a few degrees at the mention alone of his name. She did know of him, and she knew that Garen despised him. His was a very important name in Noxus, she knew. The fact that he was from Basilich, however, was news to her, and she found herself annoyed that Deacon hadn't finished his statement to give her more background to work from. "I was surprised as well. I never saw it coming, especially from her, of all people. I'm glad an end was put to the insurrection."

Deacon beamed at her for a moment. The neighborhood was steadily getting nicer the longer they walked, and she tried not to marvel at the sheer size of every building Noxus Prime. Noxus itself was a sprawling state, with all of its endeavors to incorporate seemingly every part of Valoran being realized at some point. Demacia was successful in fighting back; it seemed that all others had failed. She had heard terrible stories of Noxian atrocities from Ionian survivors.

He didn't say anything else, though, and Lux didn't strike up a conversation as she followed him through the city. They walked for about a half hour, with Deacon only occasionally pointing out some feature of the city (including the Fleshing Arena, which Lux had certainly heard of).

The inn he led her to was quite nice, as it happened. The sign over the door indicated it was called Bellswayer Inn, and she looked around curiously as they went inside.

She let Deacon do most of the talking at the counter. He marched up to the innkeeper and immediately she recognized him, going to the safety deposit box under the counter. "I'm here to collect."

"I have the money right here. It's been a good month for us here," she answered. She was a pretty redhead with dark skin and big, honest brown eyes. "No non-payers this month, either."

"Good," Deacon answered with disinterest, looking away inattentively as she put a neatly-tied bag of coins on the counter for him to take. The innkeeper's eyes slowly wandered to Lux, who adjusted the hood on her head to make sure her face was shaded appropriately.

"Is there anything I can do for you, love?" the woman asked, tilting her head slightly to one side to indicate that she was talking to the small person behind the captain of the guard.

Lux had to swallow a smile, instead nodding curtly. "I'll need a room for tonight." She counted her coin in her head. Could she even afford a place so nice as this?

"With a discount. I pulled her from the slums, so I'll only have her pay what she might have paid there."

Noxians, at least so far, hadn't been _impolite_ , but they had been… well, impersonal. This innkeeper didn't seem to be quite the same, and Lux found herself wondering if she wasn't from Noxus. Maybe she would ask tomorrow morning before she took off to find what the timetable for tradeships to Ionia from Basilich was. The plan when she got to Basilich was to say she was from Noxus Prime, armed with the knowledge she would pick up in town. It was a flawed plan, she knew, but she didn't have many good options. This entire endeavor had been flawed from the start, but she had to try _some_ thing.

The innkeeper directed her toward her room—upstairs, first room on the left—and Lux thanked her quietly before turning to go up to her room. At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped. "Captain," she said, and Deacon turned to look at her. "Thank you for your help today. If there's anything I can do to return the favor, please let me know."


	2. Darius

Commander General Darius should not have been so interested in a nobody from Basilich. It was rare that he heard much of any civilians from the small port town coming through Noxus Prime; most who were born in Basilich would be drafted into the Noxian military, and those who were not would stay in Basilich for the rest of their lives. Noxian civilians were few and far between, so he had to wonder what the wanderer did by trade if she was not a soldier and had the time to leave her work in Basilich.

Draven, when asked, said it was possible she was too young or too old to be working still, but that answer did not satisfy him. Darius also entertained the thought that maybe her work was not conventional or legal, but that didn't satisfy him either. The fact of the matter was that he had to know, and no amount of speculation would quite please him the way finding out would. Deacon le Roi, his captain of the guard (and friend, truth be told), when telling him about her during his daily report, mentioned that she was staying at the Bellswayer Inn in Mortoraa.

Normally he would have left it at that, but when he took to his bed for the night, he found that he was plagued by thoughts of Quilletta Varn, the former steward of Basilich and the first—only—woman he had ever loved. He didn't think of her frequently, but the rare nights where her and her failed rebellion stuck with him came far too often for his tastes. They had grown up together, the three of them—Darius, Draven, and Quill—orphans on the streets of the port town, urchins looking for their next meal.

He would never admit it, but he sometimes missed having someone close to him on nights where his brain got the better of him. Draven would be content swaying some nobody into sharing his bed for the night to help him forget his troubles, and he was sure that would be the solution his brother would pose if ever he spoke up about his loneliness. But Darius would rather suffer the solitude than have something meaningless. He had always been that way.

The clock on his wall read a few minutes past one in the morning when he sat up in bed, frustrated that he couldn't sleep, and decided he would be best off going for a walk. He didn't want to go to Mortoraa; it was often too dark at night to see beyond the occasional light shining from someone's windows, but he found himself going in that direction anyway. The chambers where he slept were not too far away, and he knew his way around Noxus Prime well enough that he could certainly navigate it with his eyes closed.

He found the Bellswayer Inn easily enough; the curtains were drawn downstairs but light streamed through the cracks in between them. Outside, he hesitated. This was a foolish endeavor, to seek someone who certainly had nothing to do with him just to see if he recognized them. He didn't want to wake anyone for a conversation, but if he could peek in and see who it was, even sleeping, he thought he could investigate further in the morning. But he would not be able to put his mind to rest until he had at least a fraction of the answers he sought.

The night attendant in the inn barely glanced at him at first, sitting at the counter and reading what appeared to be a magazine. He did a double-take as soon as he realized who had just walked in, jumping to his feet in a panic and standing at attention. "C-Commander Darius," he greeted with a quick Noxian salute.

"There's a woman staying here. Where is she?"

"W-We have several women here. What did she look like?"

Aggravated by his own lack of details, Darius shook his head with a short grunt. "I don't know. Captain le Roi may have brought her here this evening."

The night attendant nodded eagerly. "Yes, Lola saw them. She told me that the woman was wearing a hooded cloak, so she didn't get a good look at her, but she's staying in the first room on the left upstairs." He turned to the wall of keys behind him, picked out the right one, and handed it over willingly. That was easy. "Did she do something wrong?"

"No." Darius didn't entertain anymore stupid questions, turning and marching up the stairs quietly enough that he wouldn't wake anyone who might have been sleeping. It wasn't the inn staff's business what he did, and he didn't often worry himself with what the general populace thought of him. As long as they feared and respected him, he didn't care. Whispers and rumors were harmless as long as they remained quiet.

He didn't knock at the door, instead unlocking it quietly and opening it up slowly, hoping the dim light streaming through the crack in the doorway wouldn't wake the woman inside. He poked his head in first, and found huge, terrified blue eyes staring back at him, very much awake and much, much closer than he had expected.

"I-I'm sorry—" she sputtered immediately, as if he wasn't the one intruding on her privacy, but her voice didn't register to him right away.

He knew her, didn't he?

She looked awfully familiar, and his first thought was that she was from Basilich like he had been expecting. Younger than him by probably a decade if not a little more, and he hadn't been back for any extended period of time since he had been drafted into the military as a child, so he wouldn't have known her when he was young.

Her eyes widened, and she ducked her head nervously. "Darius—I mean, Commander Darius. I'm sorry."

Had she just called him "Darius"? Certainly he knew her.

He opened the door more fully and took a step back to get a fuller measure of the girl before him. Blue eyes now hidden by a frame of blonde hair. Fair skin, uncalloused hands. This girl was not Noxian.

"I know you."

She stopped breathing. She was caught.

He smiled.

"Luxanna Crownguard."

Her terrified blue eyes widened even more, and she looked up at him like he was shining a spotlight on her. "It's… It's not what you think. I'm not here because—" she began to explain, but he took a few steps toward her, causing her to back up further into the room. He shut the door behind them, calculating his next move. Take her as his prisoner? Kill her and make an example? There were many options available to him, and he knew any of the ones he considered first would disturb the Crownguards and the Demacian royal family as much as he was hoping.

She was looking around now, like an animal faced with a cage, and for every step he took toward her, she took a jittery one backward. "Didn't think you'd be caught so easily?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her dangerously.

Luxanna was a pretty young thing, in her early twenties by now, if he had to guess. She wasn't much for combat, not like her brother, whose head Darius was very eager to see separated from his body. Demacians were susceptible to things like pity and empathy, which made them vulnerable on the battlefield. If he killed Garen Crownguard's sister, he would be distraught, and in those moments of weakness…

The woman before him wasn't begging for her life or crying or telling him she would do anything to be spared. Her hands were raised defensively, and she swallowed a lump in her throat before speaking to him. "I ran away. That's why I'm here."

…He hadn't been expecting that. Crownguards were perfect pictures of Demacian virtue. Had she cracked under the pressure? Was she even telling the truth? He didn't know right away, so all he could think to ask was "Why?"

Shaking now, she shook her head at him. "It doesn't matter."

He growled slightly and raised a finger to poke her in the shoulder. "You don't decide what does and doesn't matter."

There was conflict behind her eyes, and he could see that she was weighing her options. Tell him and risk giving up Demacian secrets, or keep quiet and risk punishment. Her shoulders fell. She was choosing the latter. "I can't tell you."

"And you choose to take quarter in Noxus? We will not shelter you, girl."

"I was going to Ionia," she insisted, "but the ships don't leave every day."

Interesting. The genesis of a new form of punishment was taking place.

It might be worth a shot.

"You are not going to Ionia," he told her curtly. She nodded. She had been expecting that much. He wasn't going to let her get away from him for nothing. He had leverage now.

"I didn't think so," she answered quietly, words feathering off her pretty lips almost inaudibly. Everything about her was so very… Demacian, as it were. She was so prim and proper and well-manicured. He would be able to fix that.

"But I will give you a choice."

Her blonde eyebrows knit together in confusion. She hadn't been expecting to have a choice to make, obviously, and she certainly hadn't thought Darius to be the "pick your poison" type. She lowered her hands to her sides slowly, seeing now that he wasn't going to put her in a sleeper hold or snap her neck where she stood. But then she nodded to signify that she understood him. A choice. What an interesting trip to Noxus this had become, she must have been thinking.

"You will go to prison," he told her, "and stay there until I decide your captivity no longer serves me. Then you will die." Option one probably didn't sound appealing, and he didn't want it to. "That is your first choice."

He waited for her to signify that she understood her option. She looked away, clearly quite conflicted, and so he went on.

"Or you may live, in complete safety, for many years," he offered, not brightening his tone a smidgen but continuing to speak to her sternly.

She didn't look at him, so he couldn't get a read on what she was thinking of her choices so far. For Noxians, seeing one of their own become a tried-and-true Demacian would be a fate worse than death. Would it be the same if the roles were reversed?

"But you will become a Noxian. And I know you are looking for the real catch, because you are a smart girl. Here it is: not only will you be a permanent resident here in Noxus Prime—you will be my wife."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is he out of character? Maybe. Do I need him to be so he will move the story forward and not immediately tear her head off her shoulders? Yes.


	3. Lux

_"You may not understand now, but it will all make sense in a few years when you are older and you finally realize the sacrifices your father and I have made for you."_

_"I will not be married off. This goes beyond your sacrifices, Mother. This is asking_ me _to make an enormous sacrifice, and for what? Our family already has so much," Lux pleaded desperately with her mother, hoping to make her see why this was so very wrong._

_Her mother did not budge, sighing in a display that she was not to be swayed by her daughter's words. Lux was still a child in her eyes, foolish and prone to fanciful thoughts. Still, she forced her expression to soften, reaching up to tuck a flyaway strand of flaxen hair behind her beautiful daughter's ear. "Don't you want to be a queen, Luxanna? When you were a child, all you wanted was to be a princess. Now you have that opportunity."_

_"I was a child." Lux did everything she could not to grit her teeth. "Jarvan is a good man, but I want to marry for love. If I were queen, I would have to give up my duties within the Illuminators, and I'm not ready." That, and she would never be able to practice magic again, not when there wasn't a moment to herself. Demacia would never again be kind to magic-users, and she would be paraded through the streets if she showed her true ability._

_"The Illuminators will understand. And so will you, with time."_

_Lux felt frustration rising in her core, and she wanted to scream for reasons she would never be able to tell her mother. "You aren't listening to me. I'm not a child, Mother, and I do_ not _want to be treated like one! I am telling you right now that this isn't going to happen." She looked to Garen for help, as he sat tensely in the other room, visible through the broad archway leading into the living room from the foyer where their conversation took place. He didn't look back at her, angling his face away so he wouldn't have to acknowledge the argument that was going on. She knew she couldn't trust him to help. Jarvan IV was his close friend, although Lux didn't know yet what Jarvan thought of the arrangement._

_"You listen, and you listen well, girl: you will do as I say because that is your obligation to this family. If you want to be a Crownguard, you will have to make sacrifices just as all of us have."_

_"I didn't choose to be a Crownguard, and I will not be married off for your vanity's sake. I'll make sure of that," Lux seethed before turning to run up the grand staircase._

_"Luxanna Claribel Crownguard," her mother snapped darkly from the foot of the stairs, but her daughter was long gone._

_In her bedroom, Lux wasn't sure what to do. She wanted to practice magic, and she began internally putting together a list of priorities. Her magic was top priority, of course, and her freedom soon followed. Demacia and the Crownguards, especially while she was so upset, did not rank highly on the list._

_She wouldn't be able to charm her way out of this situation. Jarvan, though a good man who had always been polite to her, was not someone she loved, and even if she did, he might not love her back. She had seen the way he looked at Shyvana, the half-dragon woman in his elite guard. It would not have been fair to any of them._

_That did not leave her with many good options, and before she had even let the final decision materialize in her mind, she began to grab her few essentials. Her mind was all made up: she had to leave. She had read of temples in Ionia that revered magic, and she would be able to practice freely without fear of judgment or retaliation from the people who lived there. She would have to cut through Noxus, of course, since it spanned the entire eastern coast of Valoran and even the western coast of Ionia, but if she could keep her identity secret, she should have been able to get to a port without any trouble._

_She left through the window, and by the time her mother had cooled down long enough to come speak to her again about the family's decision, she was on the train going east._

* * *

Lux stared blankly at Darius, wondering if he was serious. But he was not the joking type, not like that obnoxious brother of his, whose stories had made it across the entire continent. "Prison… or marriage?" she mumbled.

Her head hurt, and she wasn't ready to make such a huge decision about her life when she was underslept and overtired. She thought back to the list of priorities she had made back in Demacia. Her magic was priority number one, and she did not know if that was an option, given her current ultimatum. Her freedom was gone either way. Demacia and the Crownguards were not even part of the equation, and she found herself resenting them for making her leave in the first place. How had she become such a hateful person in such a short span of time?

She looked up at him, finding him waiting expectantly for an answer, and finally asked, "…do you allow magic to be used here in Noxus?"

Darius looked… perplexed, to say the least, as if that was the very last thing he had been expecting to come from her. "Noxus allows any display of strength. Magic included."

Lux wasn't sure her magic counted as a display of strength as much as it did a display of skill, but… that was a better answer than she ever would have received back in Demacia.

But… what would her family think? If she disappeared for months—it had been weeks already since she had left Demacia, skipping from train to train until she wound up in Noxian territory. She'd had much time to think about her decisions, and found that even after so much time had passed, she felt like she was making the right choice by finally shaking her charmed Demacian life. Her family might have found her, someday, living her life at an Ionian temple, and apologize for pushing her so far.

And they would certainly find her if she ended up the disgraced Demacian wife of the Noxian commander general. If things went too far awry, Demacia would come to her aid. They would appear, in secret, to try and talk some sense into her, and she would relent. She would say it was a moment of weakness and come home. Darius could surely see the cogs turning in her head, but he said nothing. He had said it himself: she was a smart girl, and surely she had a plan.

She raised her chin boldly, looked him dead in the eyes, and finally spoke. "I will marry you if that's what it takes. I have a condition."

"You are not in a position for _conditions_ , girl."

"I want to be able to practice my magic whenever I want."

He snorted contemptuously at her very small demand. "I don't care when you practice your _magic_. It's not allowed in Demacia, is it? Is that why you chose to run away?"

Still holding her chin high, she shook her head. "It was not the only factor in my decision. Mages are not allowed in Demacia, but magic can be dangerous. A sorcerer killed my uncle."

"Mages kill people every day, but so do all sorts of people. Is that your only condition?"

She felt like she was being foolish, if he was hearing her out and she wasn't taking advantage of that fact. "Yes. That's all."

"Good. I will allow you to practice your magic, but I have a condition as well."

Of course he did. It would be foolish to think he would let her get off so easily. Practicing magic may have been a small price to pay for him, but it meant the world to her. With enough practice—she already had the skill—maybe she could use her magic to escape one day. She could go back to Demacia, when Jarvan IV was married to some other woman and she would be the pariah who was irreparably damaged by the Noxian Commander General Darius, or she could flee to Ionia where she could live her life in peace. She didn't answer him, watching the general warily, waiting for him to speak before she did. Speaking only when spoken to had not exactly been her style so far in life, but she figured that doing so now would be a boon to her in the long run.

"Practicing magic or not, you will be under supervision at all times. If I find you are untrustworthy, you go to prison and spend your days there."

Constant supervision was a serious breech of freedom, but he hadn't mentioned whose supervision it was. She would have to find a way to become comfortable in his presence, although it seemed to her that was a tremendous task that would take very much patience. She didn't quite see Darius as a human being with thoughts and emotions that weren't always evil and angry. But she supposed there had to be some soft side to him. She would have to ask him questions later, try to dig deep and see if there was any vulnerability there. She didn't figure he would share that vulnerability with her, of all people, but it would be worth a shot to see if there was a person worth loving deep down.

If she couldn't marry for love, she could marry for a small slice of freedom in the form of magic. It was a small price to pay.

"You have a deal, then." Lux thought then that she might warn him that she could be a handful, but she didn't want him to make the premature decision to lock her up anyway. As long as she wasn't chained to his bed by the ankle and given enough slack to move around as she pleased, even under some Noxian guard dog's watchful eye, she could find a way to be happy. "I take it I won't be spending the rest of the night here. Do you… or I guess _we_ live nearby?"

She was hoping her sudden familiarity with him would make him uncomfortable and give him second thoughts, but he didn't seem to think much of it, beckoning her to follow him out the door. She gathered her things—her cloak, her traveling bag, and her single pouch where she kept her valuables—and followed him in a hurry.

"I don't know how to be Noxian. I hope you aren't embarrassed by how little your wife will know. Do you think people will ask questions?" she rambled on, following him out of the inn (as the night attendant looked on curiously).

"I don't care." He was curt, clearly a man of few words, and she wondered how he had come to be in charge in the first place. Was he a particularly good soldier? Did he know how to rub elbows with elites to get high up in rank? Why him, and not his brother? He was the older one, right? Lux filed away all these questions as viable options to get on his nerves later on.

She couldn't see much on the dark streets as she followed him, and she busied herself in the dark trying to button her cloak around her neck. Her incessant chatter didn't seem to be cutting through to him, but she figured she could mention one more thing. "I hope you plan to treat me as well as you would a real wife. I am going to treat you as if we are marrying for love."

"Why?" he asked bluntly.

Offended, Lux had to bite back a scoff. "Because if I can't actually marry for love, then I might as well pretend I am. Besides, don't you think it will make quite the story, when they're telling it years and years from now? 'A Demacian girl of status runs away to be with her true love.' It's rather lovely, isn't it?"

He stopped and Lux nearly ran into him, having to bounce back a step to make sure she didn't hit him face-first. He turned to her, a steely look on his face, and said, "You can imagine whatever you want. But make no mistake: we are going to be married only because I know how much it will _disgust_ Demacia and that horrible family of yours."

Darius turned away from her, continuing to walk, and Lux let out a little "hm." She was mad at them anyway, she wanted to say, but it wasn't a good idea to air her dirty laundry with the man whose only goal was to piss them off. Instead, she decided to take it in another direction. "Well. If we should fall in love, I think that would be the best outcome for both of us. Like I said, I expect to be treated like a wife, not like a prisoner. I can be amenable, and if I am a good wife to you, I hope you plan to be a good husband to me."

The commander general made no indication that he had even heard her, and Lux figured that was because he had hit his word limit for the conversation. She knew that his silence was not agreement, and she wasn't sure what she made of her own words: if they fell in love, that would make this whole thing much less painful. Even if it was one-sided, it might still work out than a marriage out of spite: if she fell in love with him, she could pretend he loved her back and still have the happy union she had dreamed of. If he fell in love with her, the way he treated her would improve drastically.

At least, she thought so.

She didn't know how Noxians expressed love.


	4. Darius

Darius could practically feel his new bride sticking close to his back, in case she got lost on the dark streets of Mortoraa. There were no streetlamps to guide nighttime pedestrians, and she probably had not realized that when arriving at the inn. She should have counted herself lucky she always had someone there to escort her, he thought irritably. It wasn't a very long walk to his home, but it was a dark one, and he made sure to keep an ear out for her light footsteps alongside his heavy ones, in case she tried to make a break for it.

But she didn't do that, instead following loyally at his heels like a lost animal. He was sure he could outrun her, anyway, if she tried to get away. And she knew the reality of what would happen if she tried and failed to escape. It wasn't worth it for her.

And really, his offer wasn't all that cruel. A life by his side, rather than a life of servitude under his foot. It had been a kindness, honestly, and he wasn't too surprised that she accepted. He wouldn't love her, not like he'd loved Quilletta, but he would see to it that she was taken care of. The magic she was so desperate to harness was a small price to pay for a wife who would someday see that things weren't all bad and hopefully come to be loyal to him.

Luxanna seemed to believe that there was some possibility that they might end up in love—whatever that looked like for her. It was a laughable concept, but he didn't dash her hopes against the rocks right away. Whatever would help her sleep at night would be fine for him, and she could spend the rest of her life wistfully thinking that someday she might be able to say she was married to the person she loved, a person who loved her back. She would be consort to the commander general of the Noxian army, nothing more. Any Noxian would have been honored.

As they approached his home, he chanced a look back at her. She was looking up at it, and he guessed she was trying to assign it to her memory. It looked much like all the other buildings in Noxus, with its battlements atop the roof and its foreboding stone walls. Everything in Noxus served a purpose, and she would come to know that soon enough.

"Keep an eye on the windows. Nothing comes in or out without me knowing," Darius grumbled to the guards standing at the door, who were watching the little blonde Crownguard out of the corners of their eyes. They nodded attentively, and he unlocked the door, holding it open for the girl so she could enter ahead of him.

Darius was not one to feel self-conscious, but he pictured he might have been if his home wasn't as immaculate as it was. He didn't spend much time here, but he would have to in the coming days as he prepared to marry the woman beside him.

"You know," she finally spoke up, "I'm not going to run away. I made a commitment and I plan to see it through. It's what I've always known."

"You wouldn't be able to run away if you wanted to." He didn't want her to get too confident that she might be able to get out, and he didn't want her to necessarily feel like she was here for any reason other than that there were no better options. Not yet, anyway. His goal wasn't to scare her, but if she was afraid, it was another thing about Demacians he would be able to resent. She didn't seem that upset, though, and looked to be feeling quite confident.

"Well, I _don't_ want to," she countered before looking around the foyer, not bothering to allow him to guide her as she wandered into the main room. "You keep a tidy home. It's a little drab, but it's clean."

He tried not to take offense, but… what did she take him for? Some kind of slob? He knew that many grown men who lived alone did not know how to take care of themselves (his brother, for one), but he was independent and, above all, used to fending for himself. "You're surprised?"

She shrugged her shoulders, still looking around as she tapped her chin pensively. "I don't know. I was expecting… bloodstains and corpses."

It took everything Darius had not to roll his eyes. "I don't do combat in my living room." He didn't want to point out the obvious, but apparently she needed him to do so. "Come along."

There was a strange moment of hesitation before she followed him up the stairs, and he filed that information away, although he wasn't sure why. She was not eager to venture deeper into his home, more than likely to the bedchamber where they would be sleeping.

His bedchamber was not overly lavish or even considered large by most standards. Darius made it clear often that he did not desire power, control, or even nice things. His only goal was to bring glory to Noxus. He let her into the room, watching her expression carefully, and she hesitated once more before going inside. She immediately went to the window to look outside at the dark streets of Mortoraa once more.

Not concerned with what she was doing, he sat on the bed to take off his boots and shed his tunic. She turned to look at him, finally, and hesitantly asked, "What are you doing?"

"I would like to sleep sometime tonight." What the hell did she think he was doing?

Luxanna looked scandalized. "We're both sleeping here?"

Of course she took issue with that, of all things. "Is that not something married people do in Demacia?" he asked, folding his tunic up to put it away. Luxanna wasn't looking at him, seeming to look anywhere _but_ him. Why she was doing that was beyond him.

"It _is_ , I just… didn't think we'd be doing _that_ so soon. I'm not sure I'm ready."

Furrowing his brow at her, he turned to look at her seriously. She was still avoiding his gaze, having found something on the ceiling that was particularly fascinating. "It's just sleeping."

She looked at him then, turning cherry red, and stammered for a moment before saying, "O-Oh. Of course."

Strangely offended, Darius raised an eyebrow at her. What kinds of people did she think Noxians were? Oversexed savages? More importantly… "What kinds of things do they teach you about marriage in Demacia?"

Luxanna laced her fingers behind her back, rocking back and forth on her heels awkwardly. "It's not a Demacian thing necessarily. I just thought you Noxians of all people would… you know."

He turned away from her, standing up to put away his clothing. He tried to keep his tone even, but he couldn't help it softening just a bit. "I'm a man, not a monster. I will allow you to choose when our marriage is consummated. I wasn't planning for it to happen until we are married and we've had a wedding."

There was a very particular look on her face when he glanced over at her as he spoke, one that he couldn't quite place. Was this a kindness she wasn't expecting? That really left the question of what kind of person she thought he was. The Demacian image of Noxians must have been quite a grim one, he decided, but he only cared to break down the stereotypes that were going to harm his marriage. He didn't care so much about the others.

She was so very Demacian, a paragon of light and softness, and he kept this in mind when he spoke to her. There was something very fragile about Luxanna Crownguard, but he had to imagine she was anything but. After all, she had run away from her own home, and he was very curious as to why that was. He could speculate all day, though, and it wouldn't get him any closer to an answer.

The blonde sat on the side of the bed he hadn't been on, facing away from him. Acting peculiarly, she seemed a little bit hunched in on herself. Sleeping in the same bed as him couldn't have been that much of a chore, so he wondered if there was something on her mind. He was tempted to ask, as would be the good thing to do of a husband, but he thought better of it. She wouldn't tell him even if he'd asked.

When she spoke, it wasn't the question he had been expecting, but a reasonable one nonetheless. "When will we be married?"

"Soon," was the only reply he had. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet, but Noxian weddings were usually quick to plan. This one, he was sure, would be a much grander event than most, given his status. He would have preferred a small, quiet affair, but certainly that wouldn't be acceptable. "I will begin preparations tomorrow."

She was shedding her cloak then, folding it up and setting it on the nightstand next to the bed. He took this opportunity, while she wasn't looking at him, to look at her frame. She was petite, not like Quilletta. Quill was always all strong, wiry muscle. There was nothing strong or muscular about Luxanna's body. She was… soft. So unlike a warrior.

He thought back to what she had said about falling in love. After Quilletta was cut down by her own daughter after the rebellion at Basilich, he had sworn off the idea altogether. He would never admit it, but he was still disgusted with himself that he hadn't been there for Quill, that she had strayed so far from Noxian ideals that she would stage an insurrection and then expect him to join. He missed her sometimes, missed having someone to fill his bed at night. Luxanna would be a replacement as a warm body, but not a replacement as a warm presence.

There stood the possibility that she would fall in love with him, someday, as she might have been prone to do. Perhaps if she fell in love with him, he might be able to fall in love with her. If they were going to be together, she was right: that would serve them best. But…

It wasn't feasible. He couldn't love her, not the way he'd loved Quilletta. That love had taken decades to grow, and Quill was strong. Luxanna could be the best Noxian she could possibly be, but she would never truly be a woman of Noxus. Things like softness and Demacia were too hard to rend from someone's heart. Perhaps it would serve him well to cater to that softness within Luxanna herself.

She began to wind down, stretching lithely and crawling into a lying position atop the sheets of the bed. He was tempted to tell her that she was allowed to sleep under the covers, but pushing her on her comfort level wouldn't do him any good. He reminded himself firmly that he didn't care if she was happy or comfortable and that this entire endeavor was to taunt the Demacians, serve as a reminder that Noxus could do whatever they liked without facing any repercussions.

Unbothered by her actions, Darius lifted the sheets and got into bed. Luxanna was curled up next to him, looking so delicate and breakable that he was almost worried for her. He had to say something.

"Luxanna," he said firmly. She looked up just slightly so she could see over her shoulder. "I will be a good husband to you. Even if I do not love you, I will treat you properly. It is the Noxian thing to do, and the Noxian thing is to protect what is mine."

She put her head back down, sighing quietly. "Just call me Lux, okay?"


End file.
